by Ellen Riggs
Chapter Twenty-Five
My hamburger sat on my plate virtually untouched because I was too disappointed to eat. I had been so sure that the beach party would reveal everything and end the investigation into Wilf’s murder. But it had only revealed everything I didn’t want to see and nothing that I did.
As suspected, the swim trunks I’d borrowed were too small for Ben. He exploited that for laughs by preening and prancing around the living room and out onto the deck, doing bodybuilder poses. It worked to lighten the mood and all the women played along.
Neal had the opposite problem with the swim trunks slipping down despite his efforts to cinch them till they puckered. When he bent over the buffet table, he flashed plumber’s butt. That caused Kate and Macy to giggle, a rare and disturbing sound for the Raptors. But they really had changed, even visibly, since their arrival. Tonight, Macy wore a high-cut strapless one-piece with a peephole and strolled around the house barefoot. She looked completely comfortable, even without her twin glued to her side. Kate was more sedate in a sporty tankini covered with a down vest and shorts. There was no denying that the two women were becoming independent units.
Nellie was certainly comfortable in her black bikini and heels. She wore my mom’s colorful sarong around her waist and her white spa gloves to protect her fresh manicure.
Jilly and I had followed Mom’s advice and put on sundresses over our bathing suits. When people chided us for not fully embracing the theme, I pointed out that we had to stand outside tending to the barbeque and the bonfire.
“What’s wrong?” Jilly asked, arranging chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows on a tray so that people could make s’mores. “You barely touched your dinner. I thought this was exactly what you wanted.”
“It is, but it didn’t reveal what I’d hoped,” I said. “I thought I had the answer.”
She gave me a warning look as Neal came into the kitchen. “Hey, Neal,” she said. “Could you help me carry this stuff out?”
As he stood at the kitchen counter, I dropped a serviette and bent over to pick it up. That gave me a chance to confirm what I already knew: Neal’s calves were just normal hairy man legs. After watching the video on his phone, I was confident I’d see healing fang marks. Keats had clearly been beside himself in the barn that night with strangers threatening his livestock. The men had hopped around as if they felt teeth, yet Ben’s legs were also free from wounds.
My hopes of presenting Kellan with the evidence when he stopped by later were dashed. He’d have to find a way to examine the legs of Piers Frankel, Avis Arron and Tess Blade himself. Maybe they could have a beach party, too.
“I’m heading out to put the critters to bed,” I said, slipping my arms into my down jacket and grabbing the bucket of kitchen scraps Jilly collected every night for Wilma. I pulled on a woolen toque, as well. “Save me some s’mores.”
“You bet,” Ben said, coming into the kitchen. “And then you promised sparklers and dancing.”
“I’ll deliver. It’s a clear night and they’ll hear our party over in Dorset Hills.”
Slipping outside with Keats, I walked around the house swinging the bucket. My breath came out in steamy white plumes. It wouldn’t be long till the first flurries flew.
“Well, that was a bust, buddy,” I said. “I thought I’d figured it out. I thought you’d figured it out.” I looked down at him and his blue eye glittered eerily in the wide circle of the porch light. “I’m sure you have, and I’ve let you down in not piecing things together.”
He mumbled a response that sounded like a pep talk. “I know the game’s not over yet, but I’m tired of this. I want these people to go home so we can take a break and start fresh.”
It didn’t occur to me till I was nearly at the barn that my feet were cold. I was still wearing flipflops, which was a stupid oversight. One hoofed misstep and I’d be out of commission.
“Well, we’re here now,” I said. “I’ll just be extra careful. No more musing about murder till we’re done, okay?”
Keats gave a mumble of agreement, although I sensed he wanted to talk more about it. Maybe we were close to a breakthrough. But breakthroughs don’t come to farmers in flipflops.
Soon we got into the flow of our usual routine. I opened the pens and Keats brought in the sheep, then the goats, then the cows and finally the pig. The alpaca, llamas and donkeys stayed out all night, and had already grown dense woolly coats for the winter.
Once every creature was in its place, I began distributing the evening meal. As I worked, I called Kellan to tell him about my good idea gone bust. He listened patiently for a change—probably because a beach party didn’t qualify as a risky move, other than professionally. Eventually he put me on hold, so I pressed the speaker button and set the phone on a ledge near the cow stall. Using both hands to dish out the grub would be faster and my toes were numb.
When we’d spoken earlier, Kellan hadn’t asked as many questions as I’d feared about Cori Hogan’s video and I wondered if the Clover Grove police department had agreed to turn a blind eye to the vigilante rescuers who networked through the region. I hoped he’d followed up with Piers Frankel about the clandestine meeting at the bronze chow chow, but I’d have to wait to ask.
I’d also told him about the video on Neal’s phone, which I’d been too nervous to forward directly. Kellan said it had proved nothing except that Neal and Ben were both motivated to want Wilf out of the picture—but probably not motivated enough to come back out later in the night to kill him. Ben had been putting up with abuse like that for a long time, so it was nothing new. Neal had all the evidence he needed to get a buyout from Flordale without taking more drastic measures.
“Everyone wanted Wilf out of Flordale except Avis,” I said. “But no one wanted him gone from the planet. Keats, I’ve racked my brains long enough. Can’t you just give me the answer?” I shook the last of the apple peels into the trough and enjoyed Wilma’s delighted snorts. Of all the animals, she was the least predictable—the porcine wild card. But when she had a full trough, she was adorable.
Now finished his work, Keats jumped up on the hay bales in the corner. Charlie had restocked that morning, piling them up to the rafters with a backhoe. It wasn’t the first time Keats had used them to practice his mountain goat moves while he waited for me, but tonight he went higher than he ever had before.
Staring up at him, I beckoned. “Keats, no. That’s not safe.”
Instead of obeying, he hopped up another level and grumbled something at me.
“Don’t you dare go any further. Get down here at once.”
A grumble floated down from above but he picked his way back.
“Honestly. As if I don’t have enough to worry about.”
I collected some feed for Wilma in the bucket and topped her up.
“You know what’s weird, buddy?” I went on. “Wilf accused Ben of having an affair, but I’ve never heard a single rumor. Maybe he’d have done something drastic to keep a secret like that from coming to light. People do crazy things for love. But I guess you’d have chomped his leg in the scuffle, no matter how big he is.”
The sound of heavy footsteps made me turn. Ben was standing in the doorway. My mom’s sarong was now tied around his swim trunks.
I was quite sure he hadn’t heard me muttering to Keats, so I smiled. “You look like Tarzan,” I said.
“If Tarzan were a drag queen,” he answered, laughing.
I tapped the pail once more over Wilma’s trough to drop a lettuce leaf. “What’s up, Ben? You promised you’d tend the fire while I was gone. We’re going to need it.”
“Just wanted a word with you,” he said, walking across the barn. “It’s almost impossible to get any privacy.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. “Everything okay? This must be the worst week of your life.”
It wasn’t the worst week of my life, which was saying something.
“Wilf’s passing was terrible, obviously,” he sa
id. “Otherwise it’s been… fun.”
“Fun? Well, I’m surprised to hear you say that. And pleased.” Maybe the inn wouldn’t sink into oblivion after all. If Jilly and I could pull off a good time after a murderous start, we had something going for us. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
He came closer and I was suddenly aware anew of just how big he was. Keats must have found it unnerving, too, because his ruff rose and he crouched until his belly nearly touched the dusty floor. There was a whine probably only I could hear, because I was used to listening for it.
“Let’s go up to the house and talk,” I said. “My feet are freezing.”
“It’ll only take a minute, I promise,” he said. “I figure you may have heard rumors about this and wanted to tell you myself. I hope you won’t be shocked or upset.”
Goosebumps rose on my skin and it wasn’t just from the cold. Was he about to confess to the murder? “Ben, I’m harder to shock than you might imagine. But I’d always choose to be shocked beside a roaring fire, wouldn’t you?”
“No,” he said. “I’d rather be alone in a cold barn with you any day of the week.”
I blinked a few times, taking that in, and then dug deep for my poker face. Was Ben saying what I thought he was saying? “Well. That’s very kind of you, Ben.”
“You are shocked,” he said, taking a step closer.
“Surprised, for sure.” I took a step backward. “Very surprised.”
“I thought it was totally obvious.” He came closer—so close I had to look up at him. “I know you don’t think of me in that way, but I was hoping you’d agree to get to know me a little better.”
“I know you pretty well by now, Ben. We travelled together dozens of times. That creates either friends or enemies, and happily we’re the former.”
“It’s more than that for me.” He tried to ease a bit closer but I wedged the slop bucket between us. “It has been for two years. That’s why I never left Flordale, even with Wilf treating me like garbage. I kept hoping if I hung around long enough you’d realize you had feelings, too.”
Keats had been circling me, brushing one side and then the other. Now he settled on my feet. I could barely feel his fur because my feet were so numb from cold.
“I—I don’t know what to say. Flordale wasn’t a place to have feelings, Ben.”
“True.” His laugh had a bitter edge. “On his last night alive, Wilf accused me of having an affair with you. He said Neal had evidence to prove it.”
“Well, that evidence was obviously fabricated,” I said. “Neal’s an IT guy. He could hack into your account easily enough. Were you afraid Wilf would fire you… for real this time?”
My heart beat faster, till I was sure it would rattle the pail.
He shook his head. “I’d have welcomed it. All I wanted was to be packaged out and use the money to start over. I figured Jilly could find me a new position as soon as I could shake off the Flordale shackles. But now that I wanted to be let go, Wilf changed his tune. He was already in trouble from senior management over you and couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.”
I wondered if being thwarted like that was enough to kill for. “You were caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“I was going to have to leave empty-handed, and I was working up to it.” He gave me a sad smile. “But how could I sweep you off your feet if I was broke and jobless?”
“Well, let’s not talk about sweeping tonight,” I said. “This is all so unexpected, but I promise to think hard about what you’ve said.”
Looking down at Keats, I saw the sarong had slipped over Ben’s swim trunks and landed in a colorful puddle at his feet. The image triggered something in my mind and I looked quickly to the haybales where Keats had been climbing earlier. There was something hanging from the rafters… dirty white fabric.
Finally, the pieces came together.
Ben was a handsome man. A smart, kind and funny man. A gentleman in every sense of the word. He was the type of man who could really turn a girl’s head if she hadn’t already given her heart away, like I had.
No, Ben hadn’t killed Wilf. Maybe he had a crush on me, but he was probably just grasping for kindness in a toxic environment. If his feelings had been strong enough to kill for, I’d have known long ago. Even if I hadn’t noticed it, Jilly would have. I had a good support system, even before Keats. Many didn’t, and with all the stress at Flordale, someone with a bad case of feelings might very well go crazy, given the opportunity… and a castrator.
“We need to go, Ben,” I said. “Now.”
My intuition was firing off all kinds of alarms and my canine security system had also gone to red alert. At my feet, Keats had puffed to nearly twice his normal size. His tail stood out straight like a fuzzy bottle-brush. Someone was coming.
“Just tell me,” Ben said. “Do I stand a chance with you?”
Keats answered first with a low growl that reverberated through the barn. I’d never heard a sound like that come out of him before.
“No. There’s no chance. No chance at all.”
That was absolutely true. Only the words didn’t come from me. They came from someone standing in the shadows just outside the doorway.
She was wearing a bikini and stilettos. And white spa gloves.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Nellie, what are you doing down here without a coat?” I said. “You’ll catch your death, and I won’t have that on my conscience.”
I shrugged off my own jacket and walked toward her. “Don’t,” she said, holding up her gloved hand. “Don’t come near me.”
“Why?” I said. “Have I done something wrong?”
She cocked her head to one side, dark hair shining under the fluorescent lights. “Done something wrong? You never did anything right where I was concerned. You wouldn’t hire me, so Wilf went around your back and brought me on board. You called me on the carpet for half a dozen stupid things. Like wearing too much perfume or a tube top on casual Friday.” She swept her hand over her nearly naked body. “I can pull it off, obviously.”
“Too well,” I said, gently. “None of the men could concentrate.”
“He could.” She flicked her fingers at Ben. “Because he only noticed you. You in your sensible suits and your sensible loafers with your sensible air-dried hair.”
Oh, poor Nellie. She’d stripped down to a bikini and tossed a sarong to win Ben’s heart and he was handing it to me in my sensible down jacket and toque.
“Nellie, there’s no reason to worry,” I said. “Nothing’s going on between Ben and me. Never was.”
“That’s not what Neal said. He showed me emails between you two. Personal stuff.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Really personal stuff. I didn’t want to believe it… until now.”
“Well, stop believing it again,” I said. “Because honestly, do you think sensible Ivy in her sensible shoes would exchange ‘really personal’ emails on company equipment? Especially after I called you in about using company equipment for online shopping?”
She shrugged bare shoulders. “You always singled me out and bullied me. Just like Wilf bullied Ben all the time. It hurt so much to watch Ben being browbeaten, and you let it happen, Ivy. You never intervened when you could have.”
Ben had turned to face her but he was apparently too shocked to speak. Obviously the pieces were coming together for him, too.
“I intervened a lot,” I said. “Behind closed doors. Wilf was a steamroller, unfortunately.” I pulled off my toque and wrung it between my hands. “That said, I realize now I should have done more.”
“Yeah, you should have. You broke Ben. He hasn’t been the same since you left, and that just made the bullying escalate. You only thought about yourself.”
“I did, it’s true,” I said. “I’m sorry, Nellie. When I got out, I just kept running.”
“Nellie,” Ben said at last. “It’s okay. I’m not broken and Ivy couldn’t have done anything more. The system was corrupt ri
ght up to Piers Frankel. That’s all changed now and we’ll be fine.”
But Ben didn’t say the only words she wanted to hear. That sensible Ivy had been a mistake. That she, Nellie, was actually the girl of his dreams. I studied her face carefully, and then glanced down at Keats. He was coiled and ready to leap into action if needed.
“Ben, don’t you see what she is?” Nellie said. She was giving him one last chance.
“See what?” he asked. “It’s Ivy. Just Ivy. And she’s right, nothing is going on or ever was. Obviously we were framed.”
“Wilf was going to fire you for it. He wanted to make an example of you.” She came toward us, stilettos clicking on the barnboards. “He said you’d never work in HR again.”
“That’s okay. I’m good. It’s all good.”
“It’s all good because of me.” She stared up at him. “Not Ivy. Me.”
Ben didn’t have a clue what he was dealing with. He was just a confused man standing between a woman who didn’t want him and one who’d kill for him.
Had already killed for him.
I was quite sure if she turned around right now, I’d see fang marks in the calves of her shapely legs. Keats was waiting to leave a few more. Wilma gave a menacing squeal from her pen, prompting Florence to let out a shrill neigh. The sheep and the goats picked up on the tension and started bleating a startled conversation among themselves. All the creatures around us were stirring and hay particles floated up like fog. Finally, Heidi and Clara hung their heads over their stall and unleashed a deafening bellow in tandem that practically blew me over. Little Archie added some bawling as punctuation.
Nellie didn’t notice any of that because her entire world had narrowed to one gentle giant of a man.
“What do you mean, Nellie?” Ben asked, still not comprehending. He was such a decent guy that he probably couldn’t process it. “Did you talk to Wilf?”
She clicked around him in a semicircle and he turned to watch her. Meanwhile I checked out the array of half-healed punctures all the way up her legs. Keats had even landed a sharp nip on her exposed butt cheek.
